In the end they simply could not bear the thought of losing. Some World Cups are won by a flash of genius or a moment of defensive confusion. This one simply boiled down to the All Blacks' fear of walking off their favourite field as beaten finalists in a game they were expected to win by the length of the North Island. "Sometimes it comes down to what you've got under the fern and the top two inches," murmured Wayne Smith, the home side's mightily relieved backs coach.

Smith did not need to add that New Zealand's anointment as world champions for the first time since 1987 was as inelegant a scramble up the finishing straight as any in the tournament's history. In the home coaching box, by Graham Henry's own admission, there was "turmoil" as France came within an ace of the unthinkable. For a moment it appeared to be deja vu all over again, a grisly flashback to the quarter-final defeat to the same opponents in Cardiff in 2007. Even the most patriotic Kiwi could not deny that France were demonstrably the better team on the day.

By the time they have swept up all the tickertape along Queen Street following the open-top bus parade, such minor details will have been forgotten. Nor will it bother the hosts that the South African referee, Craig Joubert, turned in a truly toe-curling first-half performance which helped to save the All Blacks. The idiosyncratic Marc Lièvremont refused to comment on Joubert's decision-making, having promised during the week he would not criticise the official he has described as the best in the world. When he rewatches the tape he will be rather less sanguine.

Many here spent the week predicting Gallic oblivion. Rarely has there been a buildup like it, the triumphal mood impossible to sidestep. "French Toast" read one banner, with another opting for "With Dagg(er) and Thorn in the side, this time we can't be denied". Really? France were always going to compete, if nothing else. Two-horse races have to be won.

The first hint of a tougher-than-anticipated night was apparent before kick-off. As the New Zealanders gathered for their haka, the French formed a human arrowhead, holding hands in a show of solidarity. They then began to advance, defying the International Rugby Board's directive to remain behind the 10-metre line. By the time Piri Weepu had finished orchestrating the challenge, the players were within snorting distance. It was wonderful sporting drama, if technically against the rules.

Still, it wouldn't matter, would it? Richie McCaw, the peerless All Black captain, was awarded a crucial penalty while lying on the wrong side of a ruck, having not released the tackled player, Alexis Palisson. Eh? Morgan Parra was pinged for the most fractional of offside offences, before staggering off the field dazed by a knee from McCaw. When Tony Woodcock, no one's first choice as first try-scorer, surged through a hole in the middle of the French lineout to score the softest of tries, the All Blacks appeared to be on their way.

To France's massive credit, the foregone conclusion never materialised. There have been several fine individual performances at this tournament but nothing to top Thierry Dusautoir's quite extraordinary effort here. With Imanol Harinordoquy never far behind, the Toulouse flanker swept aside any claims Jerome Kaino might have had to being the outstanding blindside, displaying the blind fury of a captain with seven weeks worth of frustration to dispel.

With Weepu fallible in front of goal, missing two penalties and a conversion, the restlessness around the ground increased. Six minutes before half-time Aaron Cruden crunched his right knee in a heavy challenge, forcing Henry to summon Stephen Donald, his fourth-choice fly-half. The Bath-bound Donald was fishing in the Waikato River a fortnight ago; suddenly he was being thrown right in at the deep end. Six minutes into the second half, Dan Carter's latest replacement found himself with a penalty shot bang in front of the posts. The pressure was screeching, his unerring response a genuine sign of character.

Typically, it stirred France into their best passages of the game. Aurélien Rougerie got his foot to a ball in the ruck and Weepu succeeded only in hacking it into the arms of François Trinh-Duc. The fly-half, who had a good game in Parra's absence, made good ground into the All Black 22 and when the ball was recycled Dusautoir surged on to Rougerie's short pass to score at the base of the posts.

Now it was really on and France could sense it. Unfortunately for them, Trinh-Duc was responsible for his side's second missed penalty of the night, having seen a drop-goal attempt fly wide. Dusautoir redoubled his efforts as the Kiwi defence tackled the job of saving their reputations. Bizarrely, with the French requiring cool heads to reach drop-goal territory, Dimitri Yachvili was hauled off and the debutant Jean-Marc Doussain sent on. There may have been stranger substitutions in Test history but not many spring to mind.

It effectively signalled the end of France's heroic resistance as the home side, unbeaten in Auckland since 1994, regathered what was left of their dignity.

"The players showed their character, resilience and discipline," said Henry, finally granted the inner "peace" he had craved. "To hang in there and come through was something we wouldn't have done two or three years ago."

To an extent he is right. Back in Britain, even so, there will be much gnashing of teeth. This was a French side effectively operating without a coach. New Zealand looked utterly paralysed by the occasion. Kiwi endeavour may have finally borne fruit but across Europe the sickly stench of missed opportunity will linger for months.